


Giving In

by StereKDestiel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek really wants this, M/M, handjob, stiles knows what he wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StereKDestiel/pseuds/StereKDestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not happening.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“Plenty of reasons,” Derek said. “For one, your father would empty his gun into me. Several times over.”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t have to find out,” Stiles replied. “Nobody does. It’s just you and me here.”</p>
<p>Derek was standing in front of the sink, staring out of the window. Stiles was several feet behind him, slowly cutting the distance between them. Derek could hear the creak of the floorboards under Stiles’ feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving In

“Not happening.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Plenty of reasons,” Derek said. “For one, your father would empty his gun into me. Several times over.”  
  
“He doesn’t have to find out,” Stiles replied. “Nobody does. It’s just you and me here.”  
  
Derek was standing in front of the sink, staring out of the window. Stiles was several feet behind him, slowly cutting the distance between them. Derek could hear the creak of the floorboards under Stiles’ feet.  
  
“The others would be able to smell it on us,” Derek said. It was a pathetic excuse, and they both knew it. Derek had to try, though.  
  
“You and I both know there’s ways around that,” Stiles said, only a foot away from Derek now. He was looking at Derek’s reflection on the window. “Come on, tell me the real reason.”  
  
Derek knew why he was resisting so much, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t afford for others to know just how weak he was. So, he tried something else.  
  
“Your dad’ll be home soon.”  
  
Stiles smirked. “No, he won’t. He’s actually on a date with Scott’s mom, and he’s made it clear that he’s not coming back tonight. House’s all ours.”  
  
Derek shut his eyes and groaned mentally. Stiles was right behind him, so close he could _feel_ him. Derek started to speak but froze the second he felt Stiles’ hands on his hips. At first, it was just the fingertips, but then Stiles slowly spread them apart, and then the palms were pressed against his hips. Derek exhaled, thankful for the cloth that separated their skins.  
  
“I can feel just how much you want this,” Stiles whispered, his lips inches away from Derek’s ear. “You want this just as much as I do, don’t you?”  
  
Derek said nothing. He opened his eyes and found Stiles’ eyes in the reflection, staring at his own.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice cracking. He had meant for that to be a warning, but failed spectacularly. Stiles grinned and his thumbs dug under Derek’s shirt and pulled it up so he could slip his hands underneath. Derek shuddered as soon as Stiles’ fingers grazed his skin, and his breathing began to get a little ragged.  
  
 _What the fuck?_  
  
Stiles’ barely even touching him, and Derek’s already breaking down. Just how bad did he have it?  
  
“God,” Stiles whispered. “You really do want this bad, don’t you?”  
  
Derek wanted to protest, he wanted to just spin around and slam Stiles against the wall and tell him to fuck off, but he couldn’t. They’ve been through far too much together already. They’ve made sacrifices for each other. They used to bicker over who saved who the most, but they didn’t even do that anymore. They both had lost count.  
  
When the Alpha pack arrived and took Erica and Boyd, it was Stiles who got them back. It was Stiles who figured out how to beat them. It was Derek who saved Stiles from them; saved him from being turned against his will.  
  
Derek knew that if it wasn’t for Stiles, Scott would be long dead. What he didn’t realize, until now, was that if it wasn’t for Stiles, his pack -- Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson -- would all be long dead, as well as Derek himself.  
  
Derek had some semblance of a normal life now, and it was all because of Stiles. He saved him, he saved his pack. He’s the reason Derek’s the happiest he’s ever been, since the fire.  
  
With all of the realizations hitting Derek, he gave in.  
  
Derek met Stiles’ hands with his own and he felt Stiles hesitate. Derek wrapped his fingers around Stiles’ and pulled his hands over to his stomach, pulling him even closer.  
  
“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles said and Derek heard nothing but elation in his voice. Derek closed his eyes again and inhaled through his nose, taking in Stiles’ scent; his arousal and the smell of his skin, of his clothes. Derek could smell the adderall in him. He could smell traces of nervousness, but mostly excitement.  
  
Stiles has always smelled good, but never this good. Derek sniffed again and his head leaned back a bit. Stiles’ cheek pressed against his own and Derek exhaled.  
  
“Come on,” Stiles said, pulling Derek backwards. Derek obeyed, following Stiles until they reached a wall. Stiles leaned against it and pulled Derek with him, his weight firmly on Stiles’ chest. Slowly, Stiles slid down the wall and Derek went along.  
  
Stiles sat down, his butt maybe half a foot away from the wall, but his shoulders were pressed flat against the wall. Derek’s back was still glued on Stiles’ chest, his head resting on Stiles’ shoulder. Derek’s eyes were still closed, as if he was afraid that if he opened them, that this wasn’t real.  
  
“Derek.”  
  
Derek was breathing hard through his mouth. After Stiles said his name again, Derek opened his eyes. He could see Stiles out the corner of his eyes, looking at him.  
  
“Derek,” Stiles said again, this time with want. He pulled Derek’s shirt up until Derek pushed himself off Stiles so he could remove it completely. Stiles tossed it over and glanced down at the chiseled body in front of him. He saw the curve of Derek’s breasts and the fine hair that covered them. Beyond that, Stiles could see Derek’s washboard abs and he was completely sure that if “washboard abs” was in the dictionary, Derek’s abs would be the accompanying picture.  
  
“Fuck,” Stiles whispered. Stiles grazed his thumbs over Derek’s nipples and Derek grunted lightly. Stiles took his time going down each of Derek’s abs, feeling the powerful muscle beneath the skin. Stiles’ fingers traced around each ab, framing them. He reached Derek’s belly button and ran his finger around the rim.  
  
Derek’s breathing hitched when Stiles touched the veins that peeked out of his jeans and traced them down until he hit his jeans.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Stiles whispered. He kissed Derek’s ear, licking and nibbling on the edge, drawing groans out of him. Stiles reached for the button of Derek’s jeans and unfastened it, then pulled down the zipper and pulled it open as far as he could. The black Under Armour dri-fit underneath was tight, showing off an obviously hard cock.  
  
Stiles groaned as his own cock lurched, trapped in his jeans. Derek reached behind him and grasped Stiles’ thighs, squeezing them. Stiles grunted. Derek moved over to the top of Stiles’ jeans and unfastened the button and yanked it open.  
  
“Derek,” Stiles breathed. Derek looked back at him and their eyes met. “Fuck, Derek.”  
  
“Yeah,” Derek said. He pulled down Stiles’ boxers and dug into them so he could pull Stiles’ cock out. Stiles groaned and thrust forward, his cock sliding up Derek’s back.  
  
“Fuck, fuck,” Stiles groaned. Derek buried his hands under Stiles’ thighs, his thumbs stroking the skin around the shaft of Stiles’ cock and balls.  
  
Stiles couldn’t wait anymore. He used one of his hands to push Derek’s face toward his own. As soon as he could, he caught Derek’s lips with his own and they moaned into the kiss. Their tongues had a mind of their own, stroking against each other. Stiles’ fingers never stopped moving, gingerly stroking Derek’s cheek and neck. His other hand grasped Derek’s cock through the dri-fit.  
  
Derek arched his back, pressing against Stiles’ cock, and thrusted his hips up, rubbing against Stiles’ hand. Stiles went under the dri-fit and freed Derek’s cock and balls. Stiles could feel the slick precome coming out of Derek.  
  
The kiss broke and they both looked down at Derek’s cock. It was long and thick and Stiles’ mouth watered. His long and slender fingers wrapped around Derek’s cock and stroked it.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek whispered, his hips jerking slightly.  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said, placing kisses around Derek’s neck. Derek groaned and bared his throat. Stiles picked a spot and latched onto it, sucking a bruise that would soon heal. Derek’s grip on Stiles’ thighs grew tighter.  
  
Stiles stroked Derek’s cock with one hand and tweaked his nipple with the other. Derek groaned and pushed back against Stiles, trapping his cock between his stomach and Derek’s back. Stiles grunted against Derek’s skin but kept on sucking.  
  
Stiles picked up the pace on Derek’s cock and bit down on his neck. His tongue stroked the skin his teeth trapped, covering it with saliva. Derek threw his head back as far as he could and Stiles moved over to his adam’s apple and mouthed around it, alternating between licking and sucking.  
  
“S-- Stiles,”  
  
Stiles licked his way up to Derek’s ear and sucked the earlobe into his mouth. His other hand abandoned Derek’s nipple and crept up to his throat. He wrapped his fingers around the skin between Derek’s collarbones and throat. He squeezed lightly, slightly reducing Derek’s oxygen flow.  
  
Derek groaned in approval as Stiles started fisting Derek harder. Derek took ahold of Stiles’ cock and stroked it, despite the awkward positioning. Stiles grunted and tightened his grip around Derek’s neck and whispered, “Come for me, Derek.”  
  
Derek groaned and bucked his hips up into Stiles’ hand, his back rubbing against the tip of Stiles’ cock and Stiles groaned in pleasure and pain. Stiles could tell Derek was close, but he wasn’t quite there yet, so Stiles tried something new.  
  
“Derek,” Stiles whispered as he tightened his grip around Derek’s throat. “I want to fuck you.”  
  
The gasping grunt Derek gave out prompted Stiles to continue.  
  
“I’m going to open you up with my fingers. I’m going to work you until you’re loose and ready for me,” Stiles said. Derek’s balls drew in and he stuttered out Stiles’ name. “Then, I’m going to bend you over, and I’m going to fuck your brains out.”  
  
“Stiles!”  
  
Derek howled as he came. The first volley missed them both entirely, splattering against the wall. The second one hit Derek’s chin. The third, fourth, and fifth draped over his chest. Stiles kept fisting Derek’s cock throughout his orgasm. By the time the orgasm was over, Derek’s torso was covered with come.  
  
Derek’s chest heaved heavily, his mouth wide open. His hand was still wrapped around Stiles’ cock, so Stiles humped against Derek’s back. He didn’t need much more stimulation, though.  
  
“D-- Derek,” Stiles gasped as he came all over Derek’s back. Derek let go of his body completely, collapsing against Stiles and imprisoning Stiles’ still-hard cock between their bodies. Stiles grunted and jerked his hips a couple of times before settling down.  
  
Stiles finally let go of Derek’s cock. He placed his hand flat on Derek’s abs and stroked up to his chest, gathering the come between his fingers. He pulled away from Derek’s chest, watching the come drip off his fingers.  
  
Stiles looked over to Derek. He was staring at his fingers too. Slowly, Stiles brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on his thumb, lapping at the come. Derek licked his lips and then Stiles’ pinkie, eating his own come.  
  
Stiles moved on to his index finger and Derek did the same, sucking on his ring finger. Their cheeks were brushing against each other and Stiles was sure he’d have stubble burn now. Derek let go of Stiles’ finger and watched him, waiting. Stiles licked the come off his middle finger, but before he could swallow it, Derek’s mouth was on his.  
  
Derek’s tongue lapped at Stiles’ tongue, taking the come away from him. The kiss lasted a while and it was soft and slow. It was so nice, just taking their time to explore each other.  
  
“God, Derek,” Stiles said when the kiss ended. “We should have done this a long time ago.”  
  
Derek didn’t say anything. He just stared into Stiles’ eyes.  
  
“I can’t wait to have that cock inside me,” Stiles said, glancing at Derek’s cock, hanging over to the side. It was soft now, but still so big. “And I can’t wait to have mine inside you.”  
  
Derek nodded in agreement and Stiles grinned. “Derek.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Nothing. I just want to say your name. It belongs to my tongue. _Derek.”_  
  
Derek kissed Stiles gingerly then rested his head against his shoulder, nose buried into Stiles’ neck.  
  
It was an odd sensation. Derek was sprawled on top of Stiles, basically. His cock was in the open, come covering his chest and back. He was so vulnerable.  
  
And yet, he felt so relaxed. Being here, with Stiles, it made Derek feel _safe_. Stiles wasn’t even a werewolf. If someone was to attack right now, there would be nothing Stiles could do to protect Derek. Derek knew that.  
  
It didn’t change how he felt.  
  
With Stiles, Derek’s safe, no matter what. Stiles is where he belongs and it feels so fucking good, giving in to that part of him.  
  
As a matter of fact, scratch what Derek thought earlier. _This_ is the happiest he’s ever been.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, had to get this out of my head. The imagery of this in my head was really fucking hot, I just hope I translated that properly. Hope you guys liked it.


End file.
